


Making Myths

by OrangeOwlett



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Thor (2011)
Genre: Crossover, Multi, Thor AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-09
Updated: 2011-12-09
Packaged: 2017-10-27 03:26:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeOwlett/pseuds/OrangeOwlett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a prompt where Loki and his use of magic has him learning with the Roman/Greek Gods. Norse and Greeks are tight, little Loki catches their eye, and everyone is more or less pleased about the arrangement. Well, almost everyone. Thor isn't one to like to lose his friends, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Myths

**Author's Note:**

> Oh gosh, I'm terrible at describing anything, so hopefully this might quirk a couple interest despite the horrible way I've summarized it. I'll get a link to the prompt this is for, and in the meantime, hope it works.
> 
> I'm planning on throwing some eventual Thor/Loki in here, but we'll see where it goes. I have to brush up on my Greek/Roman legends for some of the characters coming in, so excuse me if I make anyone out of the character you think them to be.

Three vases, a table, and the foot of a very grumpy old thane. That was the chronological list of the things _proven_ that Thor had broken at the last feast held in the grand hall. Two of them had been thrown at his younger brother, and it hadn’t simply been the dishware.  The left side, no matter how much tender care had been applied, still bore the dent in a pillar where, save for a nicely –timed roll in childish giggles (the children, dear things that they were, didn’t understand just how close they’d come to killing each other on a daily basis since they were old enough to move) would have been a very sorrow stain of Loki. Considering this, it had been a few years since they’d been bothered to host anything that included outside guests that would think such behavior unsavory.

But it was a rare chance that any other Gods than the Norse ones appeared, so the chance was taken. The boys were older and (at least Loki) wiser, so other than a stern word and an even more intimidating eye, the servants were bade to clean the hall best they could without too much bother. The gentle din of a group bent on polishing every available surface to a blinding shine soon consumed the palace, and the air was already lively with excitement. No matter the subject, any gathering soon became quite the party when the Romans were concerned. As a people fond of yelling and general merriment, no greater friends had been found.

“The ladies are something legendary to behold as well.”

Voice now broken into a husky deep octave after an awkward few months of breaking, Thor raised an appreciative eyebrow as one of the attendants skittered past, eyes focused on the way the fabric wrapped on her curves. He elbowed his brother in manly way, but the other only jostled horribly, dropping the heavy tomb he’d been balancing on his lap. It was fortunate the 566666 page volume had not fallen on the child’s foot, as it still dangled off the floor. The dark-haired boy was well expected to start his transformation into a true man soon now, but for the time he was still slender and fair, much unlike the almost solid block of masculinity Thor had seemed to wean into. Though a few pitying shakes of the head had been aimed at the younger prince, not everyone was as blessed in puberty.

Flinching as the echo of the loud slam bounced down the hallway and briefly diverted the attention of each and _every_ one there; Loki knitted his eyebrows with a huff. “Is that really all you’re looking forward to this evening?” He questioned absently, dropping off the pile of benches they’d found refuge on. Collecting the book with a strained noise, he hefted it on the place next to him before Thor knocked him again with his infuriating large hand.

“There’s more to life than youngsters like you could understand, Loki.”  He murmured in what he thought was a knowing way, as if three years of difference could really consider the boy (well, man now, supposedly) more worldly. A strange look came to his eye, one hand propped fondly on his knee. “One day, you’ll get it.”

Dark eyes rolling, Loki found his eyes wandering over to one of the women scurrying about. Such a power they seemed to hold over his brother as of late! It seemed only a short time since they were both carefree of the other sex, running about with more pressing tasks on mind. Such as tricking the tutors and finding ways to sneak a tasty morsel from the kitchen. Thor hadn’t ever been one for swiftness or cunning, but he made for a wonderful distraction and blatant intimidation, which Loki did require.

A voice bellowed down the hall for the older prince and Thor took his leave, grin large, as if the two were privy to manly secrets more than simply ogling the servants. “One day, Brother!” He gave as a final bellow, quickly crossing through the arches to wherever he had been called.  Loki sat mutely, corners of his lips dragging down. It didn’t matter they were still a favored companion of each other, despite Thor’s increased following of friends and, well, _girls,_ he found himself missing his brother. A majority of their time was together, but his older sibling’s mind was elsewhere, and his patience for childish pastimes (as he tended to call Loki’s suggestions) was thin at best. Maybe he bore the boy no grudge, but the intimacy between them was gone.

Thin fingers brushing over his book unenthusiastically, his eyes clouded with thought. He knew what he wanted; Thor to swing his attention fully and delightedly back on him. But there was only one thing that seemed to draw the blonde’s gaze so raptly…

 Small face lighting up with the wonder of an idea, Loki sported a wicked grin, pulling the book into his arm and scurrying off to his room. Though technically his proud collection of books scattered about belonged to royal library, in the ten years he’d been smuggling them back to his chambers, not a single one had been missed. Magic was used more a sort of wary history than a guide, but he’d been able to pick up a few tricks from various volumes, which he was intended on doing for the rest of the afternoon. He managed fairly decent illusions with the spell in mind before, but this needed to be _perfect._

 

\---------

 

By the time night fell, the hall was alive with bellows and laughter. The guests of the kingdom were living up excellently to their supposed natures, and there was gaiety everywhere a glance could turn. The mead flowed freely, dancers swayed to a lively beat, and the food piled the tables despite the most eager of attempts to rid the platters of their contents. Such an event would be boasted of for awhile yet to come, Asgard pride shining through the safeguards of drinking and general debauchery.

Thor was almost delirious with joy. Despite that he was barely over his fourteenth year his form was pleasing and his personality strong and alluring, so he was the center of many attentions. Odin would cast a parent’s tired eye in his direction occasionally, but even with the playful wandering of his hands and the high giggles of the Roman girls gathered about him, the boy was behaving well enough. To his not unpleasing surprise, not once had him and Loki huddled suspiciously in a corner, brewing up something that was sure to embarrass his name.

In fact, the King thought suddenly, turning his attention briefly from his guests and glancing over the crowded hall, he hadn’t seen Loki at _all_ tonight. His stomach gave a nervous twist, the slight dip of his eyebrow gathering the attention of the man besides him.

Zeus was a close friend over the years. Both men were similar and found good humor in each other’s company, and as far as different kingdoms went—let alone separate realms—they were on almost impossibly good terms. War between the nations was unthinkable; the respect between the Gods was enough that nothing more than friendship could ever hope to grow. While they were indeed men, and not as inclined towards emotion as the fairer sex, the man stroked his beard contemplatively, regarding his companion with a calming smile. “What brings this sudden vexation to your brow, Odin? I have been here a good many hours and there hasn’t been as much a scuffle between lads too young to handle their mead.” He declined to add that it a rarity to find it so, but his eye said as much, almost capable of smirking like his mouth could.

Catching the glance and relaxing ever-slightly, the King waved his hand absently, turning deliberately from the party in front of them. “Indeed, and I have no indication one should start up. Perhaps-“He noted, voice still merry, but tinged with the uncomfortable tone of a fear, “-that is what brings me worry.”

The prince’s laugh barked over the heads of the party, stocky arm slipping about a waist and pulling a girl into his lap. “You are a delight, aren’t you? I have long heard boasted the beauty of those in Olympus, but mostly of the goddesses. How absent-minded they were to not include the citizens as well!” Voice slurred by the careful intake of mead he’d been allowed at his age, he grinned as the girl blushed and tittered, face soft and pink. Such had been the habit through the night, and weren’t it not for the charm which had been delivered, many a drink should stained the light brush of Thor’s beard.  But how was a man supposed to be solemn which such a feast of the eyes paraded him? Pleased with his current lapful as he was, it wasn’t long before he was prowling again, eyes searching for the keenest beauty he could find.

And find it he did. Fair hair was well and fine, but so many of the young ladies here sported blonde tresses light enough to match their robes that is was something of guilty pleasure to take excitement in the flip of a dark head, the contrast of milky skin drawing in the young princes’ attention. Though it was strange to have the handsome lass alone, Thor thought it little more than luck on his behalf, sliding to the girl’s side as she had her goblet filled, emerald eyes uninterested on the party.

Glancing over in a bored way when the flicker of movement was noticed, a sweet grin broke over her full lips at the sight of Thor, head dipping bashfully. “Good evening, Prince Thor.”

“Prince is far too formal, my fair lady.”  He rumbled slyly, walking besides her as she left the table for a bench, attention rapt on the young god. “This is a night of fun, and I shall not stand for titles. I’d much rather have your name slip your lips than my rank.” Thinking this particularly clever, he watched as she flustered, heart beating with pride the way women even now were stunned into mumbling in his presence. It could never be said he thought any less of the fair creatures, but it accorded with his ego to have their cheeks burn and lips fumble in his splendor.

“L-Laustria.” The woman stuttered, lips quirking almost nervously. “Though you shouldn’t be so pressed to remember it. Other than the use of it in conversation, names don’t nearly interest me as much as the talk.” Gaining more comfortable footing, her form shifted in its seat, delicate curves garbed a bit more modestly than Thor would have guessed. Maybe it was where his interest was more apt to go, but he had found the girls with the best figures flaunted it proudly, cloth wrapped intricately but low over their chest and high on their thighs. While mildly disappointing, it roused his interest, ha thought of what _could_ be underneath more tantalizing than even what was out on display.

“You have a most unusual garb for tonight, Laustria. Were you not pleased by the robes worn by your fellow ladies?” He asked, hoping to apply to the small vanities he collected of women. When one was wearing something similar enough but decidedly different, it was meant to draw attention. Though if that was the case, it didn’t seem to be a favorable decision. Blinking worriedly, the girl pulled at the skirt, which draped to the ground. That was strange, but it also seemed to be similar to the cut of a man’s robe, rather than the flair of a woman’s dress.

“Is it really that odd?” Voice high and light with worry, she furrowed her lips, mild displeasure crossing her expression.  Thor rustled in at the insecurity, strong hand catching the pale chin and drawing it back to his eye level. Just tonight he’d stolen quite a few kisses, but one more was far from unwelcome.

“No, no, not odd. Simply unique.” Layering the compliment in a purr, he made to close the distance between them, eager to catch the girl and keep her near for at least the remainder of the evening. Something about her had a familiar aura was drawing him in, and that sudden smirk she had curled over his lips was so very much like-

 **_Like Loki._ **

Spluttering as the form of the young woman melted into that of his even younger brother, the other doubled over in giggles, unaware of the awkward feelings that had suddenly applied to this situation in his youth. Kisses weren’t so strange a form of greeting, and until Thor’s post-pubescent reluctance to do so, the brothers had always done so before.  It would be awhile still before the flirtatious nature of what his older brother was so horrified of would even vaguely flicker through Loki’s mind, still firmly rooted in the sense of platonic love alone, and even far more clueless about the rough hold of lust on the teen body.

“Your face! Your face!” The young prince gasped between racks of laughter, though had he looked up from his pleased curl, he would find that expression flushed in anger and darkening quickly.

“You little halfwit!” Pouncing upon him, the pair fell to the floor of the hall in a loud crash, scattering a group nearby and drawing the attention of those gathered. “Your stupid little tricks won’t stop me from beating you into the floor!”

The rabble was loud and interesting enough to pull the interest of the head table, much to the dismay of Odin, one hand settling heavily to his temple as his children rolled about and bellowed insults at each other, each more simple-minded than the last.

“I’m the halfwit?! You were the one who was trailing like a puppy after me!”

“I chased after a woman, not some stupid like runt in a dress!

“It’s _not_ a dress, it’s a robe!”

“It’s a dress, you idiot! Are you going to just give into your soft little nature and join the girls completely now!”

“IT’S A ROBE!”

“Silence!” Halting not only the fight, but all the activities of the room with the single word, Odin stalked from the table and pulled the boys roughly apart, glaring eye traveling first to Thor, then to Loki. “Both of you, back to your rooms! I will call for you tonight, when have reflected on how to behave like the princes you are!”

Glare still on his younger son, he sighed mightily, dropping Thor’s arm. “Change back into proper clothes, please.”

“But it’s a _robe_!” Loki supplied tearfully, cut off by the sudden storm of protests from Thor about their punishments.

*                             *                             *                             *                             *                             *

Children pushed over to one of the servants used to getting them into their chambers by now, the King went back to the table, clearing his throat. “I apologize, dear friends. You know how siblings can be, I trust? Childish scuffles hardly wait a day between incidents with the princes, I fear. “

Glancing back over his shoulder just in time to watch the younger fall flat on his face, he sighed deeply.  He was apt to… _transform_ at this rate, if to avoid tripping the hem of the larger dres- **robe** , but it still didn’t sit well with him. Even with the naivety that probably went into the act, it only showed his powers were growing too quickly to be easy to deter.  As good friends tend to do, Zeus was having similar thoughts.  Much like very good friends, he also held an entirely different opinion.

“Odin, how old did you say your youngest was at now? Eleven or so, wasn’t it?” He said thoughtfully, watching the boy pick himself up with a face determined not to sob, though a few tears already streaked it. “He seems very well-educated on magics, doesn’t he?”

The King winced, pointedly looking back from the hall exiting the larger feasting one. “Somehow, yes. Where he finds such lessons has yet to be discovered, other than some dusty tombs found in his room.” He said in a clipped sentence, clearly eager to move the subject back to better conversation.

Zeus pressed harder, however, great brow quirking as a clear clash of cultures entered the room. “You mean you have no tutor for the boy? There is a great talent you are ignoring then. As far as I know, most of you aren’t inclined to feats other than strength in the family, but I have seen plenty of your women-“

“It is a woman’s occupation.” Odin said firmly, shifting in his seat as he sensed a debate. Many a great things happen at the causal argument of two Gods, so even if the subject was so personal as his own offspring, the King wasn’t opposed to seeing where this could lead. “And there it is quite noble. Men are warriors, and much more suited to it. Within a few years Loki will grow into his muscle, and his silly dabbles with magic will stay behind with his childhood.”

Also sensing the fight to come, the other King smiled, thick finger pointing absently as he made a point. “I think you presume too much. The boy is slender; if you were to throw him into the world of battle he would be sorely disadvantaged, no matter how hard he trained. Why not let him build his strength where he could make the most use of it?”

“I won’t have him placed with all the girls. While it is well and good to improve your strengths, he needs to grow as a man just as much, and needs the proper company.” The statement had a tired air to it, as if this was a thought had many times. As a parent, you wanted to show what love you could, but there was just what needed to be done. Loki was different enough without giving him more attention, and that was all there was to it.

Quiet as he took in the tone, Zeus leaned back, fingers tapping on the arm of his chair. “…What if I were to take him with me? Many of our boys and men learn basic spells, at the very least, and many excel to the point where they make it most of their occupation. We may not be as warrior-based as you, but it is a happy medium, I would say.”

Chuckle merry and hearty, Odin shook his head. “Oh, you cannot be serious! To train one in magic arts takes years!”

When the other’s expression remained stoic, the King wilted, face taking on a serious air. “You do not make this offer in jest? Zeus, I value your consul, but…”

“But what? If anything, this solves your problem. Present it to your child, if you are hesitant. Considering it is his future which we so lightly debate, he should be included, don’t you think?”

Large fist slamming lightly on the table, Odin shook his head, mouth a stern line. “But he is such a tender age! What he wants may be far from what the boy needs! I have always trusted his line of thought, but this is close to his interest, and in his youth, his judgment will surely be clouded.”

“What harm will a year do, even if he says yes?” Zeus said with a playful shove, hand clamped on his shoulder in a show of comradely. “Odin, this truly vexes you. If it will help, your child is always welcome in my home. I am not asking you to decide without all the variables, but do promise me you will ask Loki.”

Silent in thought, Odin leaned forward onto his knees, taking a deep swing of mead. “…Aye. But for now, let our thoughts wander from children! We are hardly mother hens, Zeus.”

“Speak for yourself. You never had one of your brood spring from your forehead.”

The laughter to come from this echoed for the rest of the night, fading only in the dawn, where the party struggled to rooms, last of its merriment gone. And, perhaps, one of its sons.


End file.
